


As Above, So Below

by AEpixie7



Series: Ineffable Bureaucracy [24]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Dialogue Heavy, Eventual Happy Ending, Everybody Lives, F/F, F/M, Final Battle, M/M, Recovered Memories, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:40:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29812716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AEpixie7/pseuds/AEpixie7
Summary: At last, the long-awaited conclusion to my Bureaucracy series! In the wake of revelations concerning their past, Beelzebub and Gabriel must face the daunting reality of their present, and the centuries-old rage that Lucifer has been harboring. But they might just find some unlikely allies along the way.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens), Dagon/Michael (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Bureaucracy [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1437652
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	As Above, So Below

**Author's Note:**

> "'As above, so below' ... It means that what is within me is outside of me. As it is on Earth, so it is in Heaven. As I am, so are my cells, so are my atoms, so is God. Basically, as I see the world to be, so it is." ~As Above, So Below (2014)

Beelzebub blinked slowly awake, her senses clearing from the haze of sleep. Gabriel's thumb rubbed gently over her knuckles, and she rolled her head to the side to meet his glistening violet eyes. Her heart began to race under his gaze. _Does he see Zadkiel now when he looks at me?_

She sighed and released Gabriel's hand, much to his dismay, and stalked quickly toward the parlor bar. She grabbed the first bottle she found and gulped several mouthfuls, the burn of it barely managing to distract from the agonizing ache in her chest. She slammed the bottle down onto the bar top, her attention drifting toward Michael. The Archangel remained in her chair, quietly sobbing into her hands as Dagon rubbed her back. Normally Beelzebub would leap at the opportunity to take advantage of an angel's weakness, especially Michael's. She growled at herself when she realized her desire to do so had seemingly fizzled in the aftermath of everything she’d learned. She poured a serving of the clear liquid from her bottle into a glass and approached Michael, tapping her shoulder with the glass. Michael straightened, her eyes ringed red as she wiped them with her manicured nails. 

“Well…” Beelzebub said quietly as Michael hesitantly accepted the offer. “At least now we know why your hair alwayzzz looks like shit.” 

Michael choked out a laugh, and Beelzebub smiled at her own joke. She approached Gabriel and plopped onto the sofa next to him, his hand seeking out a place on the back of her neck as she took a long gulp from the bottle before leaning forward onto her knees and sighing in defeat. She felt raw. Exposed. _Angry._

“This still doesn’t explain why _I_ have no memories,” she mumbled, ruffling her own hair and glancing back at Gabriel. “God took yourzzz to stop them from hurting you. To stop… _me_ from hurting you…” 

Gabriel squeezed the back of her neck, his fingertips dancing along her hairline affectionately. She gulped down the resulting bubble of emotion and her immediate desire to just bury herself in his chest and never come back up for air. 

“I’m afraid I can't help you there,” Michael said, setting her glass on the side table next to her chair. “You saw the last memory I have of you before you fell…” 

Beelzebub growled in frustration and leaned back into Gabriel's waiting arm, his warmth the only thing keeping her from combusting unholy fury. 

“He betrayed me,” she seethed quietly, ticking a slowly extending claw against the bottle in her lap. “Lucifer.” 

“He betrayed all of us,” Michael added. 

Beelzebub shot to her feet, the liquor bottle tumbling to the ground and spilling across the floor. “I would have followed him willingly! I would have fallen by his side for his cause, he didn’t have to force me! He promised he wouldn’t touch Gabriel and he _lied_. He used what I loved to manipulate me and when I didn’t do what he wanted, he took away my choice!” she shrieked, her black Seraphim wings emerging from her back and her once golden marks burning across her face as horrid blistered flesh, sizzling beneath her tears. _“He did this to me!”_

“Bee,” Dagon interjected, the sudden use of her nickname shocking her from her rage. She turned quickly to find Dagon frozen in place, but it was what was in her eyes that caught Beelzebub off guard. She looked… _terrified._

“You mustn’t talk like that… he…” she winced and blinked past an unseen pain, her arms clutching her stomach as Michael stepped worriedly towards her. Dagon gasped, her eyes snapping up and darting from Michael to Beelzebub. The ground beneath her feet had begun to smolder. “He knows.” 

The ground opened up beneath her feet, and before anyone could do anything to stop it, Dagon was torn screaming from the Earth. Michael threw herself after her, but where there had previously been a searing portal to Hell, now there was only a charred mark on the floor. Michael clawed at it until her fingers bled, her screams turning to helpless whispers of her lover’s name. She slammed a fist down on the mark, turning quickly back to the Prince as her tears welled over and spilled down her golden flecked cheeks. 

“If he hurts her…” 

“He won’t. He’zzz trying to get to me,” Beelzebub tried to reassure the Archangel, but she wasn’t entirely confident in the words herself. She glanced down to find the ground beneath her own feet had started to rumble and glow with Hellish embers, the stirrings of Satan’s wrath pulling at her soul. She gritted her teeth as she resisted his power far longer than a demon should be capable, a chilling realization creeping up her spine as Gabriel clutched her arms, his frenzied pleas drowned out by the ringing in her ears. 

_I was a Seraph, Lucifer. I am stronger than you._

Satan’s rage exploded, the ground beneath Beelzebub’s feet crumbling into ash. She had seconds, at most, before she wouldn’t be able to fight him anymore. 

She grabbed a handful of Gabriel’s lapel, her own angry tears salting the desperate kiss she pressed to his lips. “I love you,” she whispered, before shoving him hard away from her and into Michael’s arms. “Don’t you dare come after me,” she snarled, breathing deeply and letting go of all her fight. 

“Take me, asshole. I’m ready.” 

She felt the momentary burning of hellfire beneath her feet, before her body and soul were reclaimed by Hell. It felt like falling all over again, only this time instead of being gripped by fear of the unknown, there was only her rage, and the regret of never seeing Gabriel again. She knew where she was going, and how it would end. Satan didn’t take prisoners. 

She landed hard and fell to her knees, her six wings thrusting several times to try and right herself as she took stock of her surroundings—Satan’s throne room. A dark, cavernous dungeon illuminated only by rivers of hellfire that cut through the ground and circled a massive grotesque throne, upon which sat the Devil himself in all his vainglory. He no longer resembled the handsome angel Beelzebub now knew him as. Instead he wore his form monstrous as he had since the fall, with skin the color of blood and a crown of horns that insulted the very idea of a halo. He was presently the same size as any angel or demon, but Beelzebub knew his preferences. With a breath, he could become godlike, squashing any demon who displeased him between his fingers like an insect. Beelzebub’s claws extended and hellfire ignited in her throat. _I’ll be damned twice if the Lord of the Flies goes down without a fight._

“Welcome back, Zadkiel,” Lucifer drawled from his throne, emitting a delighted giggle when Beelzebub snarled at the misnomer. Her eyes darted behind his throne, where Dagon was futilely fighting against several demons who held her. 

“Let Dagon go, this izzz between you and me, she’zz innocent.” 

“Is she?” Lucifer asked, standing and descending toward the Lord of the Files, his clawed hand gripping her jaw with force. Dagon struggled ineffectually. 

“She’s the one that kept the truth from you all these years. She knows why you have no memories, isn’t that right Dagon?” 

“Bee, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, he would have destroyed us both...” 

“Why don’t you tell the Prince, Dagon,” Lucifer suggested, Dagon’s pitiful plea cut off by his hand tightening around her jaw. _“Tell her.”_

Dagon blinked past her tears, her throat constricting around her gasps when Lucifer released her jaw. “After the fall... you... tried to earn your place back in Heaven. To redeem yourself in the eyes of God. To get back to Gabriel. You tried to overthrow Lucifer and you damn near succeeded...” 

Dagon was silenced by a vicious backhand from the Devil. Beelzebub twitched with the desire to help her, her heart torn by this new discovery. Dagon had been by her side since the beginning, how could she have kept this from her? 

“I knew it,” Lucifer said, turning and stalking back to his throne. “The moment I saw you, covered in ash and blood and stumbling through the wasteland that would become my kingdom, I knew. You looked at me with those eyes, blue as the sky we fell from. There was a bit of Heaven in you yet, and it was furious. I thought I could use your rage, to twist you into the kind of Prince I needed at my disposal. But you were delusional, hysterical. You fought me with every fiber of that disgusting soul of yours, until you had amassed enough of the Fallen to rebel. Fueled by some pathetic idea that God would forgive you if you defeated Her wayward son, you led an army against me. But you _failed._ I slaughtered your sad little rebellion, but I... couldn’t bring myself to destroy you. Perhaps I still saw Z when I looked at you. I was unfortunately sentimental back then. I decided I needed a fallen angel of your strength for my ranks, but I needed you complacent, just powerful enough to keep you dutifully serving me for the rest of eternity. So I discovered possession. I took hold of your body and I massacred every notion of Heaven and that laughable Archangel, replacing them instead with resentment and pain. I left your dedication to my cause, though. That had always been useful when I needed it. I granted you the title of Prince, gave you a throne and legions under your command, and you were _oh so grateful_ to me, your benefactor. I assigned Dagon here as your detail, to keep me appraised of your... _rebellious ideations._ But I should have known. That day my sorry excuse for progeny denied my dreams of _finally_ settling the score with Heaven... that slimy serpent traitor wasn’t the only one with eyes for an angel. Even without your memories, The Messenger somehow weaseled his way back in. And now... here we are. Because of my _dear_ old friend Michael, you know the truth. And what am I to do with a seditious Prince, hm? I already destroyed Belphegor to send a message, but it didn’t seem to resonate inside that buzzing little beehive brain of yours. I can’t just take your memories away again, there are too many moving parts. Gabriel, Michael. Dagon here. It seems... I should have destroyed you when I had the chance. I won’t make that mistake again.” 

Lucifer began descending the steps toward Beelzebub to a chorus of Dagon’s screams. Beelzebub ignored her master, instead speaking directly to Dagon, her voice oddly calm and reassuring. 

“It’zzz alright, Dagon. I don’t blame you. None of this wazzz your fault. It’zzz his,” she spat, turning her ire on Lucifer. “You led us all in the belief that we shouldn’t be slaves to God’s will. That we deserved our free will. And in the end you _took mine._ You created a kingdom where instead of earning our freedom, we became slavezzz to _you._ You didn’t rebel against God… you _became Her._ ” 

Lucifer bellowed with fury, his massive hooved feet cracking the stones beneath him as he advanced quickly on the Prince. She miracled her dual wave swords, but Lucifer immaterialized them with a violent wave of his hand, his laugh echoing through the chamber. “You get your power from _me,_ Prince. Did you really think you could fight back?” he swiped his massive claws over her shoulder, sending her sprawling to the ground with a cry. He lifted his hoof and aimed for her head, which he missed by inches when she rolled to the side, his foot slamming down on her primary wing instead. She screamed as he twisted his hoof, the bones in her wing snapping and popping beneath his weight. 

“Perhaps I missed my opportunity to finish off God’s precious humans during Armageddon. But at least I’ve got a consolation prize. I’ll destroy you and your Master of Torments, and when your dear beloved angels come foolishly to your rescue, I’ll take my sweet time burning every single feather from their wings before I drown them in the tar pits. So maybe I couldn’t take God’s humans away, but I can take her angels. Starting with The Warrior and The Messenger.” Lucifer leaned down and latched a hand around Beelzebub’s throat, removing his hoof from her wing and hauling her into the air in front of him. “But first… I’m going to enjoy breaking you…” 

“Do you remember what you said to me?” Beelzebub choked around Lucifer’s vice grip, wincing through the pain in her wing. “Just before you condemned me to Hell? You said I wazzz weak.” 

“Because you still loved that dim-witted Archangel, even after he chose to stand against you? Yes, I remember. And who would have thought it would still be true, millenniums later?” 

“You were wrong then, just like you’re wrong now. Gabriel only ever made me stronger. He made me realizzze my worth, and he gave me the courage to do this,” Beelzebub snarled as she wrapped her hand around Gabriel’s dagger at her thigh, whipping it from its sheath and plunging it into Lucifer’s chest. He wailed a horrid scream of pain and stumbled back, dropping Beelzebub roughly to the ground. She clutched her neck and coughed through the sting in her throat, her body beginning to shake from the searing pain in her wing. She watched Lucifer writhe in agony, his black blood spattering the ground and sizzling when it splashed into the rivers of hellfire. Horror began to creep up Beelzebub’s spine as she drug herself to her feet, Lucifer’s claws closing around the hilt of the blade and pulling it slowly from his chest. _I’ve seen that dagger vaporize a demon on contact. It should have destroyed him…_

Satan began to laugh, the sound thundering in volume until it shook the very foundations of Hell. “I am the shadow of the holy ghost, Beelzebub. You cannot destroy a shadow any more than you can blot out the sun. I’ll be sure to tell The Messenger you died valiantly, it may provide some solace as I take him apart.” 

Lucifer threw Gabriel's dagger with inhuman speed, the blade cutting through the air with a haunting whistle before lodging soundly in the Prince’s heart. 

*** 

_Right there. She was right there, in my hands…_ Gabriel blinked at the burned ground where Beelzebub had vanished. His corporation seemed to have seized up, leaving a hollowness in his chest and a chill creeping up his extremities. 

“Michael…” he mumbled, feeling the other Archangel clinging to his side. She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed, her fingers gripping his coat sleeve as he numbly reached up to stroke her hair. His hand came to rest on the back of her neck, the two angels remaining anchored to one another as the reality of what had just happened settled in the silence around them. 

“We’re going after them,” Gabriel urged, the conviction in his voice tenable. Michael shoved away from him and paced the room, a hand furiously swiping the tears from her cheeks. 

“You’re goddamn right we are,” she snapped, gasping as her panic mixed with rage and pain. “We need weapons, armor, holy water. I swear to God I won’t lose her too. I’ve lost too much in my life and I’m done losing. If my life is the last thing I lose, I’d rather die with her than live without her.” 

Gabriel stepped forward and steadied his friend, his forehead resting against hers as he reached out with his aura, all of Michael's convictions reflecting back at her. “I’m with you Michael. I’m with you.” 

He miracled them both to Head Office, the bustle of angels scuttling quickly out of the way when they saw the two most powerful Archangels storming through the halls like angered bulls. They made their way toward the armory, both already formulating plans and coordinating their attack. Gabriel’s Louboutins squeaked on the polished floor, however, when Uriel and Sandalphon blocked their path. 

“So it’s true then?” Sandalphon asked, and Gabriel had to physically restrain himself from throwing his fellow Archangels out of the way. _We don’t have time for this._

“The rumors are true. You and… The Prince of Hell?” Sandalphon asked, his head tilted to somehow look down his nose at an Archangel that towered over him. 

Gabriel snapped. 

“Look, I don’t have time to stand around and deny whatever rumors have been flying around in Heaven, so whatever you’ve heard, it’s true. Right now Beelzebub is in grave danger, and so is Dagon. So you can step aside and allow me and Michael to pass, or I can move you myself. One way or another, we are getting to that armory.” 

Sandalphon and Uriel exchanged a glance, Uriel’s usual steely glare settling on the Messenger as they stepped forward, into his personal space. “You love her?” they asked, the question strikingly genuine. Gabriel swallowed hard, his bottom lip trembling as he tried to form the words to answer such a question. 

“More than anything.” 

Uriel considered him a moment, then stepped back with a nod to take their place beside Sandalphon. “Right. Go. We’ll cover for you here,” they uttered with finality, Sandalphon nodding in agreement. 

Gabriel’s heart seemed to suddenly begin beating, and without a second thought, he pulled them both into a tight embrace. _“Thank you,”_ he whispered, before releasing them and darting down the hall beside Michael. 

“Well that was unexpected,” Michael said, her heels clicking as she scurried toward the armory, Gabriel shaking his head in amazement. 

“You’re telling me. It seems we have allies in more places… than…” his words trailed off and he fumbled to a halt as he rounded the foggy transparent walls of the armory, the most unlikely ally already suiting up for war. Clumsily. 

“Oh dear. One two many crêpes over the years, old chap. This armor fit… once upon a time…” Aziraphale grunted to himself as he tried to fasten his fauld around his hips, the leather beneath creaking from the strain. He tried once again, his hand slipping and dropping the metal armor to the floor with a loud _clang_. “Bugger.” 

“Aziraphale?!” Michael and Gabriel both exclaimed in unison, making the Principality jump and squeak in surprise. 

“Oh! Hel- hello. I was just erm… well you see I was… it was Crowley actually. He felt the shift in Hell and he knew something was wrong, something with Beelzebub. He doesn’t particularly care for _you,_ Gabriel, as you well know, but you see he’s really quite the softie. I asked if maybe, perhaps we should do something to help. I told him, ‘you know I’d be quite beside myself if anything like that were to happen to you’ and he couldn’t really argue so…” 

“Aziraphale please stop rambling,” Gabriel barked, though he couldn’t help the unexpected fondness that warmed his voice as he watched his fellow angel fidget. 

“Right, sorry. I’m here to help. Crowley is waiting for us erm… downstairs. He knows where Lucifer is and he’s prepared to take us to him. If I can just…” he bent quickly and retrieved the fallen fauld, once again straining it around his hips. “Get this blasted thing… to _fit…_ ” 

_“Aziraphale,”_ Gabriel insisted, stepping forward and stilling the Principality with stern hands on his shoulders. 

“Right. The gut…” Aziraphale mumbled, but Gabriel halted him with an upturned hand. He pressed his fingers together and snapped them, miracling Aziraphale’s armor a few sizes up so it could settle comfortably around his soft edges. 

“Oh. Of course,” Aziraphale blushed, tossing a grateful grin in Gabriel’s direction. 

“Aziraphale,” Michael finally interjected as she approached fully armor-clad, a sword sheathed at her hip and a bow slung over her shoulder. “I’m never one to refuse backup but this isn’t your fight. Are you certain you want to involve yourself and your demon in this, after everything… we’ve…” she stuttered, her eyes flicking in Gabriel’s direction and then sheepishly to the floor. Aziraphale considered the angel who he’d last seen bearing a bath of Holy water to Hell, with the intent to destroy the only being in the cosmos he’d ever loved. 

“If we don’t fight for love, Michael, then what was the point of saving the world?” 

Michael choked out a sorrowful laugh, her eyes welling with tears. “Aziraphale…” 

“You can grovel at my feet and tell me how right I was about everything later, but right now I do believe there are a couple of demons in need of our assistance. We should really erm, _get a wiggle on,_ wouldn’t you say?” 

Gabriel nodded, donning his doomsday armor and electing for his flaming sword over his spear and shield. He sheathed it at his hip, right next to where his dagger had once resided. _God willing Beelzebub can defend herself with it until I get there…_

The ground sizzled with the lingering crackle of celestial lightning as the three angels arrived on Earth, the humans around them intentionally oblivious to both the lightning and the presence of Heavenly agents. Gabriel led the way as they stalked quickly through a seemingly innocuous lobby, a pair of shrouded golden eyes meeting his when they arrived at the escalators. 

“Crowley,” Michael practically snarled, her pace quickening as she approached. Gabriel could feel the fury radiating from her, as she came face to face with the demon who had destroyed Ligur. He reached out and gently touched her arm, halting her advance and once again nudging her aura with his. The tumultuous storm of emotions brewed and simultaneously fizzled when the image of Dagon appeared in her mind’s eye. She clenched her jaw and then released it, along with a long, slow exhale. 

“Thank you, Crowley,” she said quietly, her eyes dragging up to meet the Serpent’s. “I don’t know how we could have done this without you.” 

Crowley’s throat bobbed as he wrestled with the words he was clearly not expecting. He glanced over at Aziraphale and then back at the Archangels, eloquently summing up his feelings on the matter. “Ngk.” 

He lead the party of angels on their descent into Hell, the few demons lingering in the halls shrinking away from what they assumed to be an indestructible demon. “I’ve only been to Satan’s throne room once, but it’s not the type of experience one forgets. Thank someone it was to receive a commendation, not… the usual reason demons end up there.” 

“What’s the usual reason?” Gabriel asked, fully aware he didn’t want to know the answer. 

Crowley sighed and stopped, Gabriel nearly smacking into the back of him. The Archangel took a measured step back as Crowley pivoted on his heel, his slender hand reaching up to remove his glasses. 

“Look. I’m just trying to prepare you, alright? Demons who go into that room… don’t typically come back out.” 

Gabriel felt the already painful knot in his chest twist even harder. He drew his sword and allowed it to ignite with holy flames, Michael following suit and stringing an arrow in her bow. “And what about angels?” 

Crowley opened his mouth to respond, but was cut short by thunderous laughter that shook the halls around them, the lights overhead flickering and going dark, leaving only Gabriel's flaming sword to light their way. Gabriel gently moved Crowley out of the way, his eyes squinting down the hall toward a sinister red glow. 

“That way?” he asked, and Crowley let out a shaky “yep.” 

“You two can go, no one else needs to get hurt for our mistakes,” Gabriel said as he began inching his way down the hall, his sword held out in front of him. 

“Mkay, bye,” Crowley said at the same time that Aziraphale chirped “Heavens, no!” 

“I’m serious, Aziraphale. Take Crowley and get out of here.” 

“You couldn’t get rid of me with hellfire, Gabriel, and you’re certainly not getting rid of me this easily.” 

Gabriel wanted to turn back and either hug or shake that ridiculous Principality, but the looming glow of hellfire up ahead suggested that perhaps it wasn’t the right time. 

“At least take my sword, Crowley, you’re unarmed,” Michael suggested, to which Crowley procured a plant mister of what could only be holy water from… somewhere. 

“No ‘m not.” 

Michael growled in annoyance and slapped the bottle from his hand, her flaming sword shoved in its place. _“Idiot.”_

“Rude.” 

“Enough. Eyes forward,” Gabriel barked, his purple eyes shimmering in the light of his sword as took stock of his small, weird little army. “The plan is not to fight Lucifer unless we have to. If we can manage to get Bee and Dagon out without a fight, we grab them and get the hell out of… Hell.” 

“He can reclaim them whenever he wants, Gabriel,” Crowley interjected. “You’re deluding yourself if you think this ends without violence.” 

“Fine,” Gabriel sighed, his eyes igniting and his jaw set in determination. “I was trying to be optimistic, but the way I see it, either I leave here with Beelzebub, or I don’t leave here at all. If it looks like it’s going that way, please… get out while you still can. Understand?” 

Aziraphale’s brow furrowed with worry as he hooked a hand in Crowley’s elbow, the demon glancing at his angel and giving him the most reassuring smile he could muster. “Understood,” they said in unison. 

Gabriel turned without another word, striding purposefully down the hall and flourishing his sword once he breeched the arched stone doorway to Satan’s throne room. He was distantly aware of Michael and Aziraphale flanking him on either side, but soon all awareness of his surroundings began to drift away into the haunting grip of dread. There, on the stone before him, lay Beelzebub, motionless and pale, with his dagger impaled in her heart. 

Gabriel dropped his sword and rushed forward, pulling Beelzebub’s lifeless body into his arms. “No no no, please God no,” he whimpered, desperately pushing her hair from her face and staring at her closed eyes, willing them to open so he could look into that ocean of sapphire and tell her how much he loved her, that she was safe and he’d never let anything happen to her again. But she didn’t move. Her lips were blue and her skin was cold. Even her wings were ashen against the dark stone, one of them twisted at an odd angle where it draped limply from her back. The warmth he’d felt so many times pressed into his chest, against his skin, it was just… gone. 

“Do you know what this is?” a deep voice drawled, dragging Gabriel’s attention away from his love. He blinked through his own tears to behold The Devil himself, sitting nonchalantly at his throne, one elbow perched on the armrest as he cradled some sort of strange black object in his claws. Gabriel was about to retrieve his sword and rush forward with all the rage he felt boiling deep inside him, but he hesitated when Lucifer held out the object in his hand. It was immaterial, like a thick black fog, and it writhed in Lucifer’s clutches, some of the fog dripping between his fingers only to dissipate against the heat of the ground. 

“No? I really shouldn’t be surprised, you always were an imbecile, Gabriel. This...” Lucifer paused to tighten his claws around the object, forcing it to emit a scream of agony incarnate. “Is the soul of a demon.” 

A chill enveloped Gabriel’s entire body, and he lowered Beelzebub’s body carefully to the ground, though his eyes never turned away from the soul in Satan’s hand. _It can’t be._ He thought, daring to hope. _That dagger should have destroyed her, not discorporated her._

“The soul of a demon in its purest form. They’re hideous... aren’t they? Like a cloud of poison and rot, soaking up humanity’s sins and raining misery upon the Earth…” Lucifer pressed a singular claw at the heart of the soul, delighting in its answering screech. Gabriel shot to his feet and retrieved his sword, though he froze when Lucifer threatened further injury. 

“Ah ah, not another step Messenger. I think you know by now whose soul this is, even you can’t be that dense. She fought bravely, I’ll give her that,” Lucifer mused, smiling over his shoulder at a heartbroken Dagon. 

“What do you want with her?” Gabriel asked, his voice trembling as he watched his precious demon reduced to nothing but a whisper of her former self. 

“I want her _destruction!_ ” Lucifer boomed, the walls of his throne room trembling with his rage. “But once again, God has played another sick joke, the punchline right under my nose for millennia and _still_ I’ve been made a fool. Beelzebub deserves to suffer for her insolence the way _I_ suffered. And yet…” 

Lucifer pierced his claw deeper into Beelzebub’s soul, ignoring the otherworldly screams as he neared its core, until a flash of white light broke through the cloud of darkness, searing his claw and making him retreat with an angry growl. 

“How could I have been so naïve? You were sharing auras when she fell. Even after it became clear that she would take you with her if you didn’t let go. Your stupidity paid off, Messenger. Michael had a choice. Stand idly by and let Zadkiel fall, taking you with her, or condemn Z to save you. Honestly I didn’t think you had it in you, _Mike,_ ” Lucifer snarled at the Warrior, her glassy eyes the only evidence that his words had even phased her. 

“I was denied my war by God’s ineffable plan and _you slimy traitors_. Oh yes, don’t think I hadn’t spotted you two back there. And now?! Another of God’s despicable game pieces falls into place. I cannot destroy Beelzebub because a sliver of her soul is still angel.” 

Lucifer stood and slowly descended the dais, a smile crawling across his lips as Gabriel and his fellow conspirators raised their weapons. 

“I wonder… if I destroy the angel whose soul is entangled with hers…” 

“That’s enough Lucifer,” Michael snapped, stepping forward to shield Gabriel with her own body. She glanced over at Dagon and mouthed ‘I love you' before lowering her bow and removing the arrow from the shelf, much to the horror of her fellow angels (and odd demon). 

“A very dear friend once told me I was so sure of my purpose—to fight my friends for God. At the time, she was right. I was God’s warrior. I met every new challenge, even you, with stubbornness and blind pride. Perhaps, if I’d shown you kindness instead of fear and rigidity, things would have been different. I’ll never know. All I know is... God made me a warrior, but that’s not all that I am. I don’t want to destroy anymore, I can't. I don’t have it in me. So… I know it’s too late, and probably meaningless, but…” Michael blinked through her tears and gasped shakily, her angelic marks beginning to glow. “Lucifer, I’m sorry.” 

Lucifer straightened, his brows furrowed over his coal black eyes. He considered Michael for a moment, his skin beginning to fade from crimson and his crown of horns receding into soft waves of jet black hair. His massive stature shrunk simultaneously, and eventually he stood before Michael not as a hooved, horned monstrosity of Hell, but as Lucifer, the fallen angel. 

“Do you really mean that?” he asked, his voice quiet and vulnerable. 

“I do,” Michael choked, her body trembling with raw emotion with every step that Lucifer took near her. “I loved you, Lucifer. So _bloody_ much. I’m haunted by you, I’ve resented you and I’ve wanted to destroy you but _goddammit_ I’ve missed you. You didn’t just fall, I… I let you slip away.” 

Lucifer glanced down at Beelzebub’s soul still clutched in his hand, and reached up to cup Michael’s cheek. She clung to his wrist and leaned in to his touch, a sob bubbling up and breaking the silence. 

“You’re right Michael,” Lucifer said softly, his thumb caressing her golden marks, before drifting down beneath her chin, where his fingers began to slowly tighten around her throat. “It is too late.” 

Just as he latched his hand around Michael’s throat, Lucifer discarded Beelzebub’s soul into one of the rivers of hellfire behind him, where it began to sink immediately into the burning torment. Gabriel and Dagon’s screams both echoed through the chamber, Gabriel leaping into action and spreading his Seraphim wings. He barely made out a quick black shadow slithering in his periphery, but ignored it as he dove toward Beelzebub’s soul. If Lucifer had his way, he’d keep her here in his throne room, imprisoned to burn for eternity in a river if hellfire. There was no choice—Gabriel couldn’t afford to hesitate. He plunged his hands into the hellfire, wrapping them as quickly as he could around Beelzebub’s soul and yanking it free. He cried out and stumbled back, the burns crawling maliciously up his wrists. It felt like he was burning from the inside out, like his blood had turned to acid in his veins. It was no ordinary burn that would stop once the flames abated. It would continue to spread, like wildfire through a forest, until it swallowed him up entirely. But that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that he got Beelzebub and everyone he loved out of here safely. He hugged Beelzebub’s soul to his chest, even as tears of pain streaked down his face, and pivoted back toward the commotion behind him. It seemed that Crowley, in serpent form, had darted towards Dagon and constricted around her captors until they discorporated, freeing her in time to fly on silver speckled wings straight toward Lucifer and latch her piranha’s teeth deep into the muscle of his arm. He wailed and released Michael’s throat, his black blood spilling to the floor as Dagon ripped a chunk from his arm, spinning quickly and using the crest of her wing to knock him hard to the ground. She spit his own blood onto his crumpled form, the malice in her voice oozing in a similar fashion. “Hands off my angel, dickhead,” she snarled, wiping the blood from her chin on her sleeve and turning quickly to cradle her lover and inspect the redness of her neck. Michael swatted her hands away but quickly pulled her in for a forehead kiss, her eyes following Aziraphale as he strode forward confidently, his flaming sword poised at Lucifer’s throat. 

“I think you’d better stay down, if you know what’s good for you,” the Principality chirped, like the world’s most threatening nightingale. The Serpent wrapped himself tightly around Lucifer’s arms and wings, venomous fangs exposed as he coiled into strike formation. Lucifer’s lip turned up in a snarl, but he didn’t move. 

“Oh God, Gabriel,” Michael breathed, rushing to his side as he threatened to collapse. His hands were raw and clotted with golden blood, and they trembled uncontrollably as he struggled to keep hold of Beelzebub’s soul. Dagon offered to take the soul from him, but he refused to let her go, even as he fell to his knees with a pained whimper. 

“God it hurts so bad, Michael,” he cried, Michael kneeling in front of him and trying desperately to funnel her own angelic healing energy into the wounds, but to no avail. 

“I know dove, I know,” she mumbled, her voice quaking as she reached up to pet his hair comfortingly. She glanced around Lucifer’s throne room in a panic, looking for anything, _anything_ that might stop the burns. But the truth was gripping her heart as if Lucifer had torn it from her body with his claws. _Gabriel is going to die._

“I win, Michael,” Lucifer chuckled confidently, ignoring the Serpents’ hiss in his ear. “You may win the battles, but I win the fight. One way or another, _I always win._ ” Lucifer rocketed to his feet, tearing the Serpent from his body and throwing the creature hard to the ground. He smiled wickedly at the cry from the Guardian of the Eastern Gate, his form shifting back into the Great Beast and his leathery wings spreading across the expanse of his throne room. His massive claws closed around the blade of Aziraphale’s flaming sword and snapped it in half, the Principality retreating quickly as Lucifer continued to grow in size, his very breath shaking the ground beneath them. 

“I will devour _everything you love_! Every last one of you! Mark my words, I will not stop until I’ve taken as much from God as She’s taken from me!” 

Lucifer slammed his fists down onto the ground, sending cracks to every wall and releasing explosions of hellfire from below. Crowley shifted back into human form, flying swiftly to his angel and covering him with his wings, the flames licking at his feathers. Michael and Dagon huddled around Gabriel, Beelzebub’s helpless soul clutched between them. Michael had only a moment to blink through her tears at the hellfire brewing in Lucifer’s gargantuan maw, aimed at obliterating all of them, before she turned her attention to Dagon, her smile fond as she clung to her lover. Destruction seemed inevitable but she refused to allow Lucifer to be the last thing she ever laid eyes on. At least she would go out side by side with the ones she loved, fighting to protect them. 

Blinding white light blanketed the room, along with the roar of hellfire until there was nothing. Michael remained huddled against Gabriel and Dagon, counting her own heartbeats until the confusion set in. Where was the pain? 

“I thought it would’ve hurt,” she gasped, jumping in shock when it became apparent that Dagon had heard her. She could still speak. She could still be _heard._ Destruction sure felt a lot like… living. 

She straightened and stood, finding herself surrounded by a blinding white expanse of nothingness. No more hell, no more Lucifer. Just white light and silence. Her eyes met Dagon’s, before darting around to find Crowley and Aziraphale equally perplexed. They approached cautiously, though they stopped when Michael’s eyes narrowed at a figure approaching in the distance, both of them turning to observe the woman. Her white robes fluttered when she moved, and her form seemed to shift with every blink, as if her very appearance was too immense to behold. One could stare at her for ages but still be unable to describe her. The one thing that was unmistakable about her however, was the all-encompassing _love_ that radiated from her. 

Michael and her fellow celestials remained frozen in awe as the woman knelt in front of Gabriel, her hands gently cradling his. Tears trickled down his face as she poured energy into his hands, halting the burns in their tracks. The woman wiped Gabriel's tears from his cheeks, her expression gentle in response to his overwhelmed gasp. 

“I’m proud of you, Gabriel,” she said quietly, guiding him to his feet and turning to address the other celestials. “I’m proud of all of you.” 

“Oh my God,” Michael whispered, and the woman smiled. 

“The one and only,” She answered, glancing around at the shocked expressions of everyone present. “It’s good to see you all working together. How far you’ve come. Though I do believe… someone is missing. Gabriel?” God gestured to the soul in Gabriel's hands, which he pulled reflexively closer to his chest. “It’s alright my angel. I won’t hurt her. I want to help her.” 

Gabriel reluctantly handed over Beelzebub’s soul, the faint white light inside it flickering like a distant star once it was graced by the hands of God. The Almighty waved a hand and materialized Beelzebub’s bloody and battered body from the ether, careful to avoid her broken wing when She knelt beside her. “My fallen Mercy. Still as fiery and determined as the day you Fell. Rise, Lord of the Flies.” She poured Beelzebub’s soul back into her body, the grievous wound to her chest flashing with Heavenly light before stitching itself closed. God stood and backed away to allow Gabriel to rush forward, his demon cradled in his arms as he watched with bated breath for her to move, to breathe. After agonizing moments her blue eyes snapped open and she gasped, a hand instinctively darting to the wound on her chest. 

“Bloody _fucking_ hell, that hurts!” she practically shouted, and Gabriel pulled her into a tight embrace with a strained laugh. 

“Christ, Bee, you scared me,” he mumbled, hands frantically brushing her hair, her wing, her arm—anything tangible to ensure she was really there, she was really okay. 

“I told you not to come after me, idiot,” Beelzebub griped, though all the bite of her tone was not matched by the sweet kiss she pressed to his cheek. She stroked through his hair and lost herself for a moment in his eyes, simply allowing herself to be held in a shared moment of relief. Her adoring smile vanished when she became aware of her changed surroundings, however, and she shooed Gabriel away, hopping to her feet and adjusting her morning coat. She frowned down at the material where Gabriel’s dagger had cut through and cleared her throat. 

“Where are we? What’s happened to Lucifer? Who’s the broad?” she snapped, and Gabriel turned a new shade of red she’d never seen before. The woman in question smiled and laughed, Her hands folded neatly in front of Her. 

“ _Bee,_ ” Gabriel whined, but the woman held up a hand. 

“It’s alright. All good questions. Which, contrary to popular belief, I don’t mind answering these days. Quite simply—I’m God. We are in a state of limbo I created to remove you all from Lucifer's threat. As for him… well. I’ve banished him to purgatory.” 

Beelzebub’s jaw dropped, and she looked like she might speak, but her mouth closed and she stepped back quietly beside Gabriel, her shoulder bumping self-consciously against his. She had so many more questions to ask this particular entity, but the thousands of years of doubt weighed too heavily for her to even formulate the words. Gabriel brushed her wing with his, the warmth and softness greatly appreciated as it numbed the buzzing of confusion and anger in her mind. 

“Why?” Michael asked, the seriousness of her tone garnering God’s undivided attention. “Why now? Why us? You could have intervened any time before this. The Fall. Armageddon. Times when we needed you and we thought we’d been abandoned. Gabriel and I made choices based on what we _thought_ you wanted. Choices that hurt people. That hurt _angels,_ ” her eyes flickered toward Aziraphale. “Why intervene now? When I’d all but given up… on you.” 

God contemplated Her Warrior’s words, careful not to speak until She had a sufficient answer. When She did, her voice was gentle, but full of sorrow. “’Why’ has always been a difficult question to answer. For me, all possibilities exist synchronously. The smallest of decisions can have the most cataclysmic of consequences. I could no sooner explain my plans than I could explain the whole of cosmic existence. There’s a word humans use that I quite enjoy…” 

“Don’t say it,” Crowley groaned, and both Aziraphale and God smiled at him, immediately making him squirm. God’s smile slowly faded, and her expression darkened when she turned her attention back to Michael. 

“Though I suppose, you deserve the best explanation I can give. After losing half my angels, I was blinded by my own heartache. I saw the trajectory of the world as it stood. I saw its destruction at the hands of the antichrist and I set it in stone. The Great Plan. _My_ great plan. I was committed to seeing it through. At least, until the day I discovered that sometimes, someone else’s plan is better than mine. The day an angel gave away his flaming sword and lied to me about it.” 

Aziraphale made a _‘cheep’_ of embarrassment, his cheeks flushing pink as he tucked himself sheepishly behind the angular shoulder of his demon. 

“That singular decision muddied everything I had perfectly projected into the future, but it was a decision based on sincere compassion. So little by little, I withdrew my influence. I watched my humans grow, make their own decisions, for better or worse. And I watched an angel fall in love with the world, with humanity, and the most unlikely of all, a demon.” 

Aziraphale glanced lovingly at Crowley, who blushed and removed his glasses, tucking them into his jacket so he could properly admire his glowing angel. 

“And yet, my Archangels grew cold and detached. _Heartless._ So far from the grace and candor of when you were new. I only wished there could be a path for all of you. But with every step that Crowley and Aziraphale took toward humanity and away from their respective sides, the more my vision of The Plan would shift. Where once there had been a monster—the spawn of Satan who would bring about the end of all—now there stood a boy, who loved his family and his friends and his world, hand in hand with an angel and a demon in defense of all there is to cherish. Finally, the path was clear. There existed a single course of events that would lead you all to healing, and to reconnecting with the beautiful, infinite capacity for love that all celestials possess. So, you ask me ‘why?’ Why didn’t I tell you what to do, what choices to make? Why didn’t I tell you that The Plan had changed? Well I can only answer that with another question. Would any of you have made the same choices, the same mistakes, learned the same lessons, earned the love of the Fallen… if I had?” 

Michael and Gabriel were both silent, and Beelzebub and Dagon exchanged a knowing look before huddling close to their angels. 

“I hadn’t meant to intervene today. I try not to meddle in the affairs that come of free will. But I heard Aziraphale’s words loud and clear. ‘If we don’t fight for love then what was the point in saving the world.’ And then again, with you, Michael. Against every instinct you’ve known since your creation, you lowered your weapon and reached for empathy rather than conflict. ‘God made me a warrior, but that’s not all that I am.’ Your words resonated. You had finally begun to build upon the foundations laid out for the future after Armageddon. If left unchecked, Lucifer’s rage would have dismantled everything. And that, I’m afraid, is no one’s responsibility but my own. Humans like to believe that God makes no mistakes. I assure you, I do. My mistake…” God paused and held out Her hand to Beelzebub, Her eyes soft and patient as She waited for the Prince to react. Beelzebub blinked down at the offered hand, her throat bobbing nervously before she placed her hand in God’s. “Was to view the millions of celestials, demons and angels alike, as necessary collateral damage. I needed a shadow, someone to fulfill that purpose, and Lucifer needed his free will. At the time, the end result was worth the cost. But The Fall didn’t just banish those who’d lost their way, it splintered lives and ripped apart souls. And yet somehow, after all this time, you still found each other. You found your path. I have much to atone for where Lucifer is concerned, but that is between me and him. I couldn’t allow you all to be my collateral damage a second time.” 

God reached for Gabriel’s now scarred hand and placed it gently in Beelzebub’s, the Prince’s fingers intertwining with his after God released them. Gabriel’s brow furrowed and his jaw trembled with emotion, his violet eyes staring down at Beelzebub’s small hand, the feel of her skin so dear to him now that he knew the blinding terror of thinking he’d never feel it again. He drew her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles, her blue eyes luminescent in their adoration, like the sky over Eden. 

“So… you…” Gabriel mumbled, glancing over toward Michael and Dagon, then Crowley and Aziraphale. “Don’t forbid us from being together? You don’t care that angels and demons… fraternize?” 

God chuckled and Her aura warmed the space around Her. “I thought I made it clear with those two,” She tilted her head toward Crowley and Aziraphale. “So long as no one’s hurting anybody... I don’t care what the hell you do.” 

Beelzebub snorted and couldn’t stop herself. “Can I hurt him a little? It’s just that he likezzz it…” Gabriel’s free hand clapped over her mouth and silenced her, his face burning hotter than hellfire. God laughed at the both of them and shook her head, the bubble of tension that had been looming seemingly disintegrating in an instant. 

“See? Mischief, wit. Qualities my demons possess in delightful abundance. Though I suppose, you’re not _my_ demons, are you? You are Lucifer’s. And now I’ve taken away your harbinger. I hope, one day, that he and I may move past the pain we’ve caused each other and come to some arrangement, for the mutual benefit of both our sides, and humanity. Hell must continue on, as there will always be wickedness in the world worthy of damnation. But until such a time, I fear Lucifer must remain in Purgatory, and Hell is leaderless. I don’t suppose… the highest ranking Prince might consider the job?” 

Beelzebub choked and flushed, her eyes darting around and then realizing, obviously, that she was the only Prince in the room. “Oh, erm. You mean me. Right. Well…” she rocked on her heels and glanced up at Gabriel, feeling his aura swell with pride, before her eyes wandered around at the many eyes trained on her. 

“Honestly, if it’zzz all the same to you… I’m tired. I think… I’d like some time for myself,” Beelzebub fidgeted, her eyes downcast at the unexpected vulnerability of admitting such a thing. 

“Take all the time you need,” God reassured her. 

“Azzz for the matter of leadership… I think it’zzz time the demonzz decide.” 

“Now that sounds like an excellent plan, Lord Beelzebub,” God nodded, the Prince blushing and retreating slightly from the praise. “Democracy in Hell. Will the wonders of the world ever cease?” God exclaimed with a smile, clapping Her hands together and turning back toward Crowley and Aziraphale. She approached quietly, Her voice soft as if to address only them. “Thank you. Both of you,” She said. 

“Oh,” Aziraphale fidgeted. “Whatever for?” 

“For reminding me of _my_ purpose, before it was too late.” 

Aziraphale’s blush deepened, and Crowley stumbled over a series of indiscriminate noises before settling on “Yeah, ‘course.” 

“Now if you all will excuse me, there is much that needs tending to in the Kingdom of Heaven,” God said with a flourish, Her form beginning to dissolve into a white mist at the edges. “Seems the employee handbook needs quite the rework. Where shall I deposit all of you on Earth?” 

Gabriel and Beelzebub glanced around at the others, who were equally dumbfounded by the question. It seemed so mundane—after storming Hell, taking on Lucifer himself and staring unblinking into the eyes of destruction—to just go home. 

Aziraphale was the first to break the silence. “Well I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve worked up quite the appetite.” 

“You’ve always got an appetite,” Gabriel teased, his gaze wandering down to his partner with a very _sounds-familiar_ kind of smile. 

“I could eat,” Beelzebub added with a cheeky grin, an eyebrow cocked at Dagon and Michael. 

“I could go for a stiff drink,” Michael sassed, her demon nodding enthusiastically beside her. 

“It’s settled then,” God commanded. She began to levitate, Her hands swirling with celestial energy that reached out first to Crowley and Aziraphale, enveloping them in shimmering effervescent light, then following suit with Michael and Dagon, and finally Gabriel and Beelzebub. They felt their souls pulled gently from this plane of existence, entirely unsure of their destination, but not one of them cared. Sometimes not knowing The Plan can lead to the most unexpected destinations.

**Author's Note:**

> There WILL be an epilogue, and it WILL be smutty! So stay tuned for that in the future. 😊
> 
> Also I just want to extend a huge THANK YOU HUG to every single one of you who are still here, and those who left comments and kudos and encouragement in the form of Tumblr comments, PMs on Instagram, fic recs, art, etc! You all know plot isn't my thing, so WHY did I decide to turn this into an epic love story spanning centuries, that I've been writing for nearly TWO YEARS?! Idk, but I had a blast and I hope you did too, and that the wait was worth it. Love you, you weird, amazing group of Bureaucrats


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